The weather was decent, and when the Bentley sped across Monkey Stone Bridge, a streak of morning light shone through the open window onto Li Shi's face.
He squinted subconsciously and turned to look outside the window.
Watching the constantly rolling waters of the Xiang Jiang River, he suddenly fell into reminiscence.
He had come to the city of Tan Zhou to attend university at nineteen, and now eight years had passed; he vividly remembered arriving alone from South Station with a backpack on his shoulder and his father's gray suitcase in tow, before taking the bus to the university.
It was also at Monkey Stone Bridge that he had seen the Xiang Jiang River for the first time in a book.
"Back then I had a buzz cut and was quite green," he mused.
